


And one day we'll remember

by injeong



Series: Merlin at Hogwarts [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Amnesia, Angst, Fluff, Hogwarts, I haven't written fanfics on ao3 for so long i forgot how to tag, Immortality, M/M, Merthur - Freeform, Reincarnation, also implied immortality, immortal merlin maybe, implied reincarnation?, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:41:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29642478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/injeong/pseuds/injeong
Summary: There was something strange about one of the students in Arthur's year at Hogwarts.(And not because Arthur swore that he heard him talking to a dragon behind Hagrid's hut. Nobody believed him.)Granted, the seventh year students were usually the strangest - most likely a mixture of exam stress, career options, and the odd influence of a magic school - but there was just something about Merlin Emrys, something out of the ordinary, something that made him different.ORArthur watches Merlin all through their Hogwarts years. Sometimes he feels like Merlin is a complete stranger, and sometimes he feels like Merlin is his oldest friend. He has no idea why.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Merlin at Hogwarts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2178123
Comments: 5
Kudos: 115





	And one day we'll remember

**Author's Note:**

> This is sort of in the same universe as the first fic in this series? But the tone is very different and the events might not match up, I just kind of wrote another Hogwarts AU and decided to put my grand total of 2 Hogwarts AU fics in one series. Enjoy :D

  
There was something strange about one of the students in Arthur's year at Hogwarts. 

(And not because Arthur swore that he heard him talking to a dragon behind Hagrid's hut. Nobody believed him.) 

Granted, the seventh year students were usually the strangest - most likely a mixture of exam stress, career options, and the odd influence of a magic school - but there was just something about Merlin Emrys, something out of the ordinary, something that made him different. 

At first, it had been the name. He remembered thinking, in his first year, _what kind of mother would name her son after the greatest warlock in the history of magic_? Arthur thought _he_ had it bad, with the overbearing expectations of his father, but to be named after Merlin the Great? No wonder he seemed uncomfortable with all the attention.

Then it was the hatstall. Arthur, having grown up in a Pureblood magical family where almost every member had graduated from Hogwarts, had only ever heard the tales. To see it himself - the frankly unpredictable and chatty Sorting Hat struck dumb at the sight of the scrawny first year, undecided for a solid _seven_ _minutes_? Even the teachers at the top of the Great Hall had begun to whisper to each other, some worried, some curious, some excited. When the Hat finally opened its mouth and shouted " _Hufflepuff_!" the applause was dubious and confused, and as the year went on, Arthur found it hard to see why the Hat had made that decision. 

Now, in their seventh year, Arthur understood a little better. Unlike Morgana, who had radiated Slytherin ambition from the moment they met, or Gwaine, who was exactly the kind of reckless but courageous idiot Arthur expected from Gryffindor, Merlin didn't really ... fit. If anything, at first, Arthur had thought he should have been sorted into Slytherin. Merlin had somehow managed to get on Morgana's good graces almost immediately, the two of them frequently seen arguing over homework and casting magic pranks in the corridors, and Arthur had definitely spotted him sneaking around the Forbidden Forest at night at least once a month. In their fifth year, when Arthur had become Prefect, he caught Merlin on multiple occasions roaming the empty hallways silently at ungodly hours in the morning. He never reported him (though he often threatened to, which only resulted in Merlin laughing and disappearing back to his common room) but the curiosity simmered beneath the surface.

He was smart, too. (He had an uncanny knowledge of History of Magic, one that made several professors question his sources.) Arthur had received extensive tutelage from the many professors his father had hired to "Keep him ahead" even before he started Hogwarts, and his magic flowed easily through him and listened to his every command, but even so, Merlin was never far behind. It had almost become like a game to them - battling over their grades, over Quidditch, and though he pretended not to know, Arthur had discovered that Gwaine and Morgana had a running bet going ever since first year about who would graduate with the highest marks. (He's not sure, but he thinks the prize money has reached the thousands in Galleons.) 

Even Merlin's magic was odd. His wand was a delicately twisted shaft of wood, a small blue crystal embedded at the handle, and clearly a work of art, but more often than not he didn't use it. Wandless magic was hard to master - Arthur knew that from experience - and yet it seemed to come to Merlin as easily as breathing. He never seemed to use it too much in class, despite Flitwick's obvious fascination, but Arthur had seen it so many times - an outstretched hand stopping a stray Bludger from hitting Gwen in the audience, a simple flick of the fingers that stopped the water jug from falling, a blink that vanished the potion that was about to explode and scald four students. 

One time, Arthur remembered distinctly, during a Care of Magical Creatures class, a unicorn had wandered from the Forest and towards the class. He remembered the professor's warnings - "Unicorns don't tolerate males, stay away, boys!" - and heeded them, but Merlin had just stood there, letting the unicorn come to a stop in front of him, nuzzling his face. And that hadn't even been a one-time thing - the unicorns continued to come out of the Forest to approach Merlin, making affectionate noises and pushing up against him, and Merlin always just laughed, running his hands through their silvery manes and leaning in to whisper something. 

There was also the incident with the Dementor - a rare sight, especially after the Battle of Hogwarts. It had found them at the edge of the Forest, too far away from the school to call for help. Arthur, Gwaine and Percival at his side, had struggled to produce a Patronus strong enough to defend them (it had been so much easier in a well-lit, lively, homely classroom) and almost succumbed to the feeling of despair that darkened his vision before the Dementor stopped. There was a voice, one that Arthur only recognised later to be Merlin, that called his name, said something in a language he didn't recognise. He hadn't seen a Patronus, but the Dementor had whirled away in an angry cloud of shadow, and never returned. 

More than any of those, though, the strangest thing about Merlin was how he acted with Arthur. 

Even in their first year, before they had a chance to really get to know each other, Merlin acted alternatively friendly and distant, some days laughing and talking like they had known each other for decades, and other days drifting, half-hidden, in castle doorways and looking at him as if he had remembered something important, something sad. 

Merlin called him "Sire", sometimes, poking fun at his pure-blood family, but for some strange reason Arthur always felt like there was something more to those titles, even though there couldn't have been. 

One Christmas, Merlin had gifted him a winter cloak in crimson red, adorned with a golden insignia. At first, Arthur had thought it was a tribute to his Gryffindor status (he was proud of his house, and he didn't bother to hide it), but then he realised the golden animal stitched onto the shoulder was not a lion, but a dragon. Something had felt unnervingly familiar about it, and when he fastened it around his shoulders it felt like the most natural thing in the world, and he didn't know why. He wore it to Hogsmede a few days later, and when Merlin saw him, an odd expression had crossed his face, something that almost looked like a mix between grief and love. 

"You look lovely," he had said, sincerely. "It suits you." 

Through the years, Merlin kept making references to objects and events Arthur didn't understand, almost like an inside joke, except Arthur had never met him before Hogwarts and they had no inside jokes, as far as he remembered. 

If Arthur had to describe it in a single sentence, he would say that it was almost like Merlin had something to hide. Some big, dark, world-changing secret that he couldn't share with anyone. Which, of course, peaked his curiosity. Arthur always tried to ask him, tried to coax the secret out of him, but Merlin twisted their words into an intricate net of distraction and by the time Merlin had finished the conversation and drifted off somewhere else, Arthur had forgotten about why he started the conversation in the first place. 

And most of all, when Merlin thought people aren't looking, the expression that crossed his face was so ... sad. 

It alarmed Arthur, at first. It was the kind of sadness similar to the ones he saw on the faces of old and war-weary ex-Aurors, when remembering the time of He Who Must Not Be Named and the terror and death. Not the kind of sadness a school student should have. A logical assumption was perhaps that Merlin had lost an older sibling or a friend in the Battle of Hogwarts several years ago, or perhaps they had been killed by Death Eaters, but a sure voice inside him told him that none of those assumptions were right. 

He had no right to ask such a sensitive question, so he never did. But the curiosity only grew.

"There's something about you, Merlin," Arthur said, late into the last term of their last year at Hogwarts. They were sprawled on the grass next to the lake, the water shimmering with evening sunlight, and the air was soft and comforting and familiar. "Almost like you know something that none of the rest of us know. What's the big secret?" 

He turned his head, watching as Merlin's expression grew pained, almost agonised, for a split second. 

"You'll know," he said in vague reply, almost to himself. "I won't tell you. But you'll know. You have to - one day, by yourself, you'll ... you'll remember, and then ..." 

Arthur listened in confusion as Merlin's voice grew quieter and quieter, his blue eyes distant and dreamy. 

"Merlin?" he said, uncertainly, and Merlin cut off abruptly, half-sitting up. 

"Sorry. I have a bad habit of rambling ... what were we talking about?" 

_One day, by yourself, you'll remember ..._

Arthur shook his head. "Nothing. Don't worry." He sat up, blinking away the sleep that had settled into his body from the hours underneath the sun. "Say - have you finished that Potions essay yet?" 

Merlin sat up too, absently fumbling for his bag. "The one on everlasting elixirs?" His brow furrowed. "Wait. When is that due?" 

"Tomorrow, isn't it?" 

Swearing, Merlin jumped to his feet. "Damn. Library?" 

"Will you let me copy yours if I lend you my Care of Magical Creatures reports?" 

"Deal." Merlin smiled, his features awash with the golden rays of the evening sun's light, and something deep within Arthur stirred, nostalgic, lonely, loving. Something familiar. 

Merlin turned back to look at him, his eyebrow raised inquisitively. 

"You coming?" 

Shaking himself, Arthur got to his feet, unable to rid himself of the feeling that there was something _more_ to them. To everything. 

But what could it possibly be?

"Of course." 

  
end.


End file.
